Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Intervention!

Written 9 February, 2009

Intervention

Chey: Sweetie, we know you’re wondering why we asked you here.

Sweetie: Yes! And while you’re at it, please explain why it couldn’t wait! I was conducting a critical experiment on the failure of a third-level manila folder. I think I’m close to a fix for the famous 23-sublevel malfunction problem.

Chey: It’ll have to wait. We have something to say to you.

Sweetie: It’s another interview, isn’t it? My adoring public!

Starblazer Gazer: Sweetie, we’re your friends, and we want you to get better.

Sweetie:
OMG! This is… this …

Pas Reglon
: Yes, Sweetie. It is.

Chey: Welcome to your intervention.

Sweetie: Let me out of here!

Jan Viveck: Sorry, Sweetie. You know we can’t do that.

Sweetie: Let me out of here, I say!

Sggaks Caidemor:
We were all once like you.

Pas Reglon: Yes. My inventory count was past 40,000. And all poseballs.

Starblazer Gazer
: With me, it was eyes. I just couldn’t have too many pairs.

Sggaks Caidemor:
I was obsessed with all things Victorian. I spent hundreds of hours adding “Ye olde” to the name of each of the 13,500 items in my inventory. Non-mod items made me just nuts.

Jan Viveck:
I suffered a devastating inventory loss—all my clothing disappeared! When I submitted a support ticket, the Lindens just laughed. Thank goodness for the psychbot at your robot sanitorium! He diagnosed me with post traumatic inventory loss stress disorder and gave me some robot medication that keeps me stoned out of my gourd.

Desi Kaypre: And I—I never realized you could save photos to the hard drive. I had snapshots stashed in every folder and subfolder in my inventory. The 10-Linden upcharges were killing me. And believe me, I learned the hard way about the 23 subfolder problem!

Chey: And you know my problem—obsession with textures. I was spending hours making and uploading them, and then I couldn’t get them out of my inventory and into my texture organizers fast enough.

Sweetie (batting eyes): But what does this have to do with me?

Chey: We all had a consultation with the psychbot. He’s convinced the root of your problem is an unresolved object relations complex.

Dryden Cillius: You seem to be stuck in the cubal stage.

Desi Kaypre: And you have a problem with transference.

Sweetie: That quack, with his roboFreudian bullshit? That’s soooo hackneyed! I wonder he didn’t tell you I have penis envy!

Chey: Er, prim envy, actually. It has to do with all those .5x.5x.5 plywood cubes in your Objects folder.

Sweetie: It’s perfectly NATURAL to have objects named object in your Objects folder!

Chey: Not 1400 of them!

Sweetie! But I’ve been religiously following Sweetie’s object-cleansing diet! And it’s working! I know it is!

Jan Viveck: Sweetie, we’re here because we love you. We want you to get help for your inventory problem.

Sweetie: Help? I don’t need help!

Starblazer Gazer: You’re in denial, Sweetie. It’s normal.

Sweetie: You’ll have to pry my manila folders from my cold, dead virtual hands!

Chey: Sweetie, please be reasonable!

Sweetie: Don’t you realize, you fools, those exploding lipsticks are dangerous! Do you have any idea what my collection of nytrocosmetics could do to the servers? It could crash Second Life! Permanently! What a color-mismatched catastrophe THAT would be!

Pas Reglon: Sweetie, aren’t you being a little dramatic?

Sweetie: I live for drama! How about if I let you have my Revlon Red 542! It explodes, but it’s the weakest of the lot. And, and, I have a torus I could let you have!

Starblazer Gazer: Sweetie, you’re bargaining.

Sweetie: Why are you all looking at me that way? You’ve been planning this! You’re all ganging up on me!

Starblazer Gazer: Now you’re paranoid.

Chey: Sweetie, be reasonable!

Sweetie: Reasonable? Don’t you understand, I’m SWEETIE! I have no reason to be reasonable. I have flunkies to be reasonable in my place.

Chey: Ouch!

Sweetie: I’ll get you all for this! I will! This has to be against the Terms of Service! I know a Linden! He adores me and will do anything I tell him to!

Starblazer Gazer: Now you’re in the threatening phase, Sweetie!

Sweetie: I’m going! I’m leaving! You can’t stop me! Hey! Why can’t I move?

Chey: I turned off physics for the entire sim. You can’t go anywhere.

Sweetie: Noooooooo!

Chey: Will you come along quietly?

Sweetie: MAC Fuchsia 17! Cover Girl Hot Pink 101! L’Oreal B19 Purple. Because I’m worth it! Get your hands off me! Revlon Dramatic Black 03! Maybeline Peach Gloss! Leave me alone! Clarins Red L’Amour! Merle Norman Bombs Away! Arrrrgh!

Sggaks Caidemor: She’s completely flipped out!

Pas Reglon: She's reverted to lipstick language! Where are we going to put her?

Chey: I just happen to have an entire facility for this. We’ll put her in a padded cell in the HAL 9000 Memorial Secure Unit for the Robotically Criminally Insane-- up at the robot sanitorium!

Sweetie: If I can work my way down to folder level 32 you’ll ALL be sorry!

Chey: That’s where she keeps her most powerful lipsticks! To be safe, I’m turning off scripts. And turning off build. Let’s go! There’s not a moment to lose!

Starblazer Gazer
: Chey, I hate to say this, but with physics off none of us can move.

Chey: Crap!

And that’s where the intervention went horribly, horribly wrong.

2 comments:

Whatcha Eaton said...

I think it is good that Sweetie is getting help but I have to wonder at the ethics of the psychbot. Why is it discussing confidential patient information?

Cheyenne Palisades said...

You must understand, we're on a very strict budget at the robot sanitorium. We made the psychobot from scraps we found in a junkyard in Vienna. We're saving up for an ethics chip, but do you have any idea how much those things cost?